


in search of self preservation

by lapinprince



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Akechi Learns About Friendship, Blood and Injury, Canon Compliant, Gen, Kitagawa Yusuke - Freeform, P5 Protagonist - Freeform, Sakamoto Ryuji - Freeform, Scars, Takamaki Ann - Freeform, Zine: Take Your Time - A P5 Writers Zine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2019-12-17
Packaged: 2021-02-26 17:26:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21832063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lapinprince/pseuds/lapinprince
Summary: "They do have quite a beauty to them, don’t they?” Yusuke murmured beside him. Goro blinked up at him, looking back out towards the others fighting the grotesque looking monsters.“The Shadows?” Goro asked, confused.“Us,” Yusuke replied, a faint smile on his lips. Goro watched as Akira did a standing backflip to gain enough ground to shoot his target while Ann twirled and whipped the Shadow to death.“Mm, I agree. Your teammates are surprisingly skilled in combat, considering,” he agreed. Yusuke made a small protesting noise, but Goro was too engrossed watching them fight to notice.-A piece fromTake Your Time - A P5 Writers Zine.
Kudos: 51





	in search of self preservation

**Author's Note:**

> i organized a zine and this was one of my pieces for it! i really wanted to write a goro piece that focused on interactions with some of the other teammates, so this was pretty healing for me. thank you to del and lex for illustrating for this! this was an exclusive story for the print version, so now that all sales have closed for a good while now i can finally post this! i hope you enjoy! written in feb 2019.
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/laprincenico)
> 
> -♔

Red.

Goro’s eyes opened, the sight of his dreary apartment laid before him, the simple white sheets that lay over his lap stained with streaks of rust red, again, typical for a Thursday morning, which probably explained the immediate dissociative state he had upon waking up. He would give it perhaps another five minutes before the pain from his adventure the night before sank in. 

“What time is it…?” he mumbled to himself, reaching for his phone, which was already buzzing softly beside his pillow with a constant stream of notifications. A sharp pain tweaked in his side when he stretched, though not enough to stop his movement. Not quite interested in keeping up with his social media, he glanced towards the time instead—7:13 am. Not much time to be laying around, unfortunately. With all the strength he could muster he sat up, the fresh stitches in his side twinging painfully and belatedly as he moved. His hand pressed lightly to his ribs, coming away with splotches of sticky red—not wet, but not dry—again, probably why he woke up in a cloud, since his body was trying to compensate for its ragged state. He wondered idly when it would give in.

But really, Goro was only discontent that he had ruined another set of bedsheets—he must have been tossing and turning in his sleep again. Sliding out of bed, he padded carefully to the washroom, shedding his shirt along the way and discarding it on the ground on top of a growing pile of bloodied clothing from his various trips to the Metaverse.

“Good morning, Detective Prince,” he muttered sarcastically as he faced himself in the mirror, a brave task for someone like himself. His reddish-brown eyes were dull from lack of sleep, ashy grey bags proclaiming the sentiment even louder, and his hair flopped lifelessly to the side, rogue locks sticking out in various directions, something a brush wouldn’t even be able to fix. 

“Useless,” he murmured to himself, quickly making sure he had enough time before he had to leave. Stripping the rest of his clothes, he stepped into his shower and turned it on, fiddling with the knob until searing hot water soaked him. He peered down at his body; the various scars from his numerous amateur self-surgeries didn’t seem to be fading much more despite his diligent application of vitamin E oil, aloe vera, and whatever other nonsense the internet fed him. Really, he was getting a bit too tired to care if it worked or not. He just knew it wouldn’t be good if he stopped trying.

He got out of the shower once the water stopped running red, patting himself dry with a fluffy towel. With steady hands, he redressed the wound on his side, wrapping bandages around his waist to keep it firmly in place. Once he put on a fresh white shirt, the stitches were invisible enough that only the slight throbbing that served as a reminder of that Shadow’s spear plunging into his ribs the night before. He was a little sick of trudging home bleeding when the rest of the Phantom Thieves had nothing more than a few bruises or a healing cut, but he just wasn’t blessed with a Persona that could heal, or a shady deal with a back-alley doctor. So really, it was less them and more his useless pride talking. “I’m fine,” was something he was very used to barking out at the others after a particularly bad hit after all, and whose fault was that?

“Where’d I put it—” Goro muttered as he opened a few drawers in his bathroom in search of his makeup bag. He retrieved it and pulled out the necessities for his routine; moisturizer for soft skin, yellow toned concealer to hide his bags, a light application of foundation to even his complexion, a touch of blush and the thinnest application of dark brown eyeliner, with a swipe of white eyeliner in his waterline to keep his eyes looking bright. After he finished, he dressed fully and stood in the mirror, scrutinizing his appearance. He smiled to himself, his public mask firmly affixed, and he was at least somewhat fooled. He reached for his concealer to dab some more under his eyes, finishing off the whole look with a dusting of translucent powder.

“Good,” he said to his reflection, straightening the lapels of his jacket. After one last look in the mirror, he left his apartment, his pleasant smile hiding entire sides of him that would hopefully never see the light. He’d just have to hide the falter in his step, at least until the adrenaline kicked in during the Metaverse excursion that night. 

-x-

Adrenaline, indeed. Goro gasped, gnawing on his bottom lip as he hunched over and tried to process the burning that shot up his side once again. Nothing quite like the pain of ripping open stitches for the third or fourth time, though it was probably a bit much that he has known this exact feeling time and time again.

“Crow, you good?” Ryuji called, running to Goro as he sat crumpled up and heaving while the world spun to oblivion. 

“Yes, I’m fine. No need to wait for me,” he replied with a surprising stability in his voice, not able to see the puzzled look that Ryuji gave in response. Still, for some reason the boy waited by him as the others peeked around at the various casino tables in the area. 

“Thank you,” Goro said awkwardly once he stood up and got his bearings. Ryuji gave a sheepish grin and gestured back towards the group. Despite taking a break, Goro was starting to see double from his wound re-opening, his vision threatening to fade into black if he wasn’t careful enough with his footing. His grip on his sword tightened as best as it could as he readied for another battle. _This was getting a bit tiring,_ Goro thought. He contemplated how important his plans really were, as he came face to face with the same damn Shadow that did him in the night before. Nonetheless, if he were to feign being a Phantom Thief he had to act the part and couldn’t let a single thing slip, regardless of his reluctance. His dedication to his role near swallowed him whole. 

“I’m fine,” he mumbled to himself right before a light jab to the gut sent his stupid, heavy body crumpling to the ground. Makoto benched him for the rest of the night when he didn't get up for far too long, leading him to just watch the others, useless again. 

“They do have quite a beauty to them, don’t they?” Yusuke murmured beside him. Goro blinked up at him, looking back out towards the others fighting the grotesque looking monsters. 

“The Shadows?” Goro asked, confused.

“Us,” Yusuke replied, a faint smile on his lips. Goro watched as Akira did a standing backflip to gain enough ground to shoot his target while Ann twirled and whipped the Shadow to death.

“Mm, I agree. Your teammates are surprisingly skilled in combat, considering,” he agreed. Yusuke made a small protesting noise, but Goro was too engrossed watching them fight to notice. For a while, he thought to study their fighting styles and to look for any weaknesses—something he knew would come in handy someday. But he grew tired of looking for the blind spots in Akira’s standing backflips and simply watched to admire their collective (and surprising) skill in acrobatics.

The group finished up their adventure for the day soon after with a respectable amount of progress, and they re-entered the real world, parting ways at the courthouse. Goro’s grip on his briefcase tightened weakly as he waved goodbye, flinching slightly at the pulsating pain in his ribs. He turned around and he was almost in the clear before he heard a “Dude!” shouted loudly behind him. Goro glanced back to see Ryuji’s finger pointing directly at him, pale in the face. “Dude, you’re bleeding!” he shouted. The other Thieves came back at Ryuji’s outburst—probably to shut him up, Goro assumed—but they all looked similarly distressed. 

“Oh. Yes, I suppose I am. Not to worry, I’ll patch myself up when I get home—” Goro brushed it off, turning back around and clutching at his side gently to cover up the bleeding. The awkward distribution of weight with his briefcase ended up with him collapsing to the ground again with the slightest misstep. The Thieves shouted and ran to him, Ryuji lifting him with ease into a sitting position, supporting him. Yusuke began to open up his jacket without hesitation while Ann searched in her bag for any ointments that could help in lieu of her Persona’s skills. Akira dug in his bag and tossed her a jar of ointment, frowning when he couldn’t find much else to help. 

“I’ll head back to Leblanc and set up a place where he can rest,” Akira said, gesturing for Futaba to come with him. “Makoto, Haru, could you stop by Takemi-san’s place and get dressings and medicine? Ryuji, Yusuke, Ann, you three tend to his immediate wounds until he can be transported safely.”

“Mm, of course—!” Haru said, giving Goro a worried look that made his wound throb with guilt. 

“Don’t let him leave.” Akira gave one last warning before he turned towards the station with Futaba in tow. The others scattered off to their respective duties, leaving Goro leaning on Ryuji, Yusuke’s fingers undoing the buttons of his shirt, and Ann sizing up the wound.

“I’m—I’m fine, it’s alright—” he said, strained. 

“You’re bleeding and it looks like this wound was patched up yesterday, you’re not fine,” Ann said firmly. Yusuke had already shrugged his jacket off and gotten to his shirt, his hands freezing at what he saw. Warped and ugly scars trailed along his torso from countless close calls, puffy, dark pink lines and faded white marks. Yusuke traced one lightly with his finger and Goro shivered, batting his hand away. Ann started to peel away the old dressings Goro had put on that morning.

“A-ah, my apologies. I never realized you would have this many scars…” Yusuke said, a little embarrassed that he got carried away.

“Well, I hide them for good reason, you know. They’re pretty ugly, aren’t they?” Goro laughed weakly, letting himself lean back more on Ryuji. Ann stayed quiet as she concentrated on cleaning up the mess of stitches and blood in his side. 

“On the contrary. I find scars quite beautiful,” Yusuke said. Goro went quiet, rolling slightly onto his side so Ann could have better access. At least they weren’t asking where they were from.

“Jeez, these stitches are messy—” she frowned, holding Goro’s twitching body down with a hand, carefully using a handkerchief to absorb the blood leaking from the wound.

“Ugh... they’re usually neater.”

Ann’s hand rested on his side, clenching the dirtied handkerchief in silence. The other two were both similarly quiet as what Goro said then and before sunk in, and the three of them exchanged an uncomfortable look, unsure what to say. Goro craned his neck, brow furrowed at the sudden quiet.

“You don’t take care of yourself very well, huh?” Ryuji finally broke the silence, always the one to say what others wanted to but couldn’t. Ann resumed dabbing away at the wound, making Goro hiss a little with the sensation.

“What do you mean? Is this not taking care of myself?” He gestured vaguely at the rather poor example on his waist.

“We have all these supplies ‘n shit from Akira’s hookup, why don’t you use them instead of goin’ all surgeon simulator on yourself?” Ryuji’s closeness to him was starting to make him feel even more vulnerable, all things considering. Goro squirmed in an attempt to use an arm to prop himself up instead, but of course the athlete noticed and had no qualms about wrapping his arms around Goro’s upper body to help keep him up instead, locking him in. He was trapped. Ann used the opportunity to begin to blot the ointment over the wound, brow furrowed.

“Well… those are _your_ supplies,” he said quietly, his resolve waning.

“ _Our_ supplies,” Yusuke corrected, “They’re for the team, after all. You are part of the team.” 

Goro bit his lip, this clearly more than he had ever prepared for.

“Well-”

“Just ‘cause you blackmailed us into doing this Palace doesn’t mean you’re not part of the team!” Ryuji huffed. Quite frankly, Goro was impressed that he managed to read his mind, though he was well aware that one who thought with their gut and not their mind is still as formidable a foe. “We’ve got the same goal in the end, so… you’re one of us,” he continued. 

“That can’t be good practice,” Goro mumbled, though none of them honoured his last word with a response. Somebody’s phone buzzed. Ann wiped her hand and checked her phone.

“Ah, Akira texted the chat—they’re ready for us at Leblanc,” Ann said suddenly. She quickly replaced the old dressings and taped them back in place, a temporary fix until they were able to treat the wound properly. Yusuke helped Goro put his shirt and jacket back on too, in preparation to move. 

“Can you stand?” Ann asked, holding a hand out. Goro avoided eye contact and reached out to take it, but the pain from the gash proved to be in too central of an area for him to hoist himself up properly. 

“Ah, hell,” Ryuji said, squatting down. “I got you.” Effortlessly, he scooped Goro up into his arms, eliciting a startled gasp—then another, more exhaled gasp of pain.

“Don’t jostle him!” Ann scolded. Ryuji grinned sheepishly. 

“Whoops! Sorry, Akechi. You good?” 

“...Yes. I’m fine,” Goro replied, a hand covering his mouth. He felt something alike to a princess, or a damsel in distress, being saved by a knight or something—maybe even a band of knights. No, this was nothing that belonged in fairy tales. In reality, he was just an idiot kid getting patched up by his friends, too prideful to admit a thing, including the fact that they were friends. The latter part was something he still wasn’t sure he should be working on. But maybe he should. Reluctantly, he looped his arms around Ryuji’s neck for stability. 

“Alright, we’re off!” Ryuji announced, nodding to both Ann and Yusuke. As they walked to the train station, Goro couldn’t help but laugh a little honestly, as this was beyond anything he could have prepared for with his plans. A little knot of guilt twisted in his gut, but he decided to just ignore it, at least for now. Right now, he should just let himself be an idiot kid.

“Thank you,” he murmured, not too quiet that the other three couldn’t hear. 

“Of course,” Ann said, smiling. “We’re friends.” Goro closed his eyes.

Friends. For now, at least.

Though, it could be for longer, he supposed.

**Author's Note:**

> in my head goro has many friends and he cherishes them all and they love him too


End file.
